


More fucked than a blind optician

by Thesockpuppetmaster



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bisexual Carl Gallagher, Everyone is pregnant, F/M, Fluff, I probably missed a shit ton but oh well, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Season/Series 01, Smut, Sort of AU, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9439682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesockpuppetmaster/pseuds/Thesockpuppetmaster
Summary: What if Lip never found out Ian was gay? What if everyone thought he and Mandy were actually dating (even though they weren't)? What if Linda never caught Ian and Kash? What if Lip started banging Mandy in season one? What if guys could get pregnant? What if condoms broke way to easily? Oh, wait... maybe not that last one.Set in season one (sort of ).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I...don't even know.

Shit. Shit shit fucking holy shit. This couldn't be happening. Mickey looked at the stupid piece of fucking plastic in his hands, and squeezed his eyes tight shut, hoping it was all just some fucked up dream.  
He opened them. Nope, still there.   
Two fucked up, life destroying pink lines.  
He was...  
No. Don't say it. Don't think it. It might go away. He couldn't help but cower in terror at what his dad would say if he found out.  
What he might do.  
To him.  
To Gallagher.  
Mickey mentally shook himself. What kind of a fag was he? Sitting in a goddamn toilet in Cosco with a stolen pregnancy test, worrying about that stupid ginger motherfucker that he banged when he was bored and horny. And that was all they did. He was just, you know, bored and horny alot. It wasn't like he cared about him or anything. Fuck.  
He was...  
He was...  
Fucked.

                           ***

Ian, on the other hand, was having a pretty damn ordinary day. He was stacking pringles cans in the back of the store, pretending not to notice Kash blatenly staring at his ass, and had some dumb song that had been on radio this morning stuck in his head. 

Ian hadn't really fucked Kash much since Mickey had come into the picture- not that Kash knew why- so the guy was probably horny as shit. Ian vaguely wondered if he owned a dildo, but figured he probably didn't. If Linda ever found it... well, shit would go down. Or one if his kids, god forbid.  
"Wanna take a break?"  
He knew it had been coming. He might as well. It's not like he had anything better to do. And Kash wasn't a bad lay, he just wasn't... Mickey.  
"Sure."  
The older man clicked the lock shut on the battered shop door, and sauntered towards the back room. Ian followed suit, sweeping his hair out of his eyes as he went.

                          ***

"So, Mandy good in bed?"  
Lip and Ian laid on Ian's bed passing a half-finished joint between them. Ian took a hit as he thought of a reply that wouldn't out him.  
"Yeah, 'cause I'm gonna tell you,"  
"Just asking, man," Lip defended.  
"Well, is Karen?"  
The older boy snorted.  
"Have you seen what's written on the bathroom walls at school?"  
"The zip code for her pus- ow Lip, that fucking hurt!" He rubbed at the sore patch on his arm where his brother had punched him.  
"Kinda the point, Ian,"  
For a while they just laid on the rumpled bed, in companionable silence, just passing the blunt back and forth.  
"I'm cheating on her."  
Ian neary swallowed the joint.  
"W-what?!"  
"Karen. I'm fucking someone else,"  
Ian couldn't believe how calm Lip was being about this. Just a month ago he'd been claiming Karen could be 'the one'.  
"Who?"  
He already knew, of course. Mandy had told him weeks ago- even though they weren't really dating, they were still best friends. But, holy fuck, he hadn't expected Lip just to blurt it out like that.  
"I, uh, can't tell you,"  
Figures.  
"Why not?"  
Might as well have some fun.  
"Because-"

Brrrring!  
The doorbell rang.

"We have a doorbell?"  
"Apparently so."  
Ian got up, but Lip stayed put.  
"I'll get it then, shall I?"  
"Yep."  
Ian rolled his eyes, but still went downstairs.

There was no one in the kitchen, so Ian wondered if Fiona had forgotten her key.  
He opened the door.  
Wham!  
Blood trickled down his face and his a pain in his nose soared.  
"You're gonna pay, you little shit!"  
It was Terry Milkovich.


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should probably point out that this is my first ever fanfic, hence it's shitness (is that a word?).  
> Lip's kind of a massive arsehole in this chapter, so be warned.  
> Also, when I said everybody's pregnant in the tags, I wasn't kidding (I might even make Lip pregnant, just to fuck with you).

"-fucking pregnant!"  
Ian's world ground to a halt as the words rocketed out of Terry's mouth.  
Fuck.  
Pregnant.  
He barely even felt the blow to his jaw, the crimson ravine dripping down from his forehead and fogging his eyes.  
The floor felt scarcely there as he was pushed back onto it with an unforgiving crunch.  
Mandy was pregnant.  
And Terry thought it was his.  
Well, Ian thought before his mind clouded with tar-black fog,   
at least it wasn't Mickey.

                           ***

Get rid of it.  
Tell Gallagher.  
Get rid of it, then tell Gallagher.  
Never tell Gallagher. Ever.  
Tell Gallagher.  
Tell Mandy.  
Kill Terry.  
Run.

Mickey's head felt like it was trapped in a tumble dryer, the same fucking ideas rolling over and over each other in his whiskey-addled mind.  
Whatever he did, he was fucked.  
Fuck.  
He couldn't risk going to an abortion clinic- what if someone saw him? Recognised him? Told his dad...  
Fuck!  
Mickey took a swig from the bottle of dog shit-coloured liquid that he kept stashed in his trash filled bedroom, leant back on his cum-stained bed sheets and stared at the ceiling.  
Fuck, was he a pussy. He'd kept the test. He had no idea why, but it was a good reality check when he needed one.  
Just another reminder of how he was Mickey Milkovich, and how Mickey Milkovich was never going to amount to anything. Exept maybe jail.  
Another long swig to dull the pain.  
He looked down at his stomach. Holy mother fucking shit cock. There was a baby in there.  
Right now.  
And it was growing, even as he sat there and thought about it.  
A tiny person.  
Inside him.  
Fuck.  
That was why he couldn't tell Gallagher. With his stupid fucking puppy eyes, and floppy red hair. He would say that kind of shit, and Mickey would pussy out of aborting it.  
Every fucking time.

                           ***

"Ian?"  
"Oh my God... what happened?"  
"Ian?!"  
"Are you ok?!"  
Fiona. That was Fiona's voice, he was sure of it. Ian went to sit up, and then came crashing back down again at the brutal stabbing pain all over.  
"Ian?!"  
She became steadily more frantic.  
"Fi- I- I'm fine..."  
He opened his eyes and saw her own staring back at him, consumed with worry.  
"Ian. Who did this?"  
He remained silent.  
"Ian."  
"Terry,"  
Fiona's chocolate eyes flew wide.  
"Milkovich?! Oh my God... but, why?"  
Again, Ian remained silent.  
"Ian."  
He took in a deep breath.  
"Mandy. She's pregnant."  
"Shit. I-I'll get V. See if she can patch you up."  
She hurried off to next door.

"Shit."  
Ian turned his throbbing head and saw Lip standing at the bottom of the stairs.  
"I guess you could say that, yeah,"  
"What happened?"  
Maybe it was because of the smaller age gap, but Ian always found it much easier to confide in Li-  
Oh no.  
Oh fuck.  
Lip had been fucking Mandy.  
The baby could be his.  
Realisation hit Ian like a bullet in the skull. He would have to break the news carefully.  
Should he tell Lip he knew?  
"I-"  
Yes.  
"Uh-"  
No.  
"Um-"  
Yes.  
"Mandy's pregnant!" It had burst out in a rush, and he could see the terror in his brother's eyes.  
The terror that was swiftly replaced by anger.  
"You fucking idiot! What, you couldn't take two goddamn seconds to stick on a condom?! Really?! Was that too much fucking effort for you?!"  
Oh. Fuck. No.  
"Oh, so this is my fault?!" He yelled, unsteadily rising to his feet. "You think I did this on purpose?!"  
"No, I just think your brain was too busy powering your cock for you to think!" The brothers inched towards each other.  
"Fuck you!"  
"No, fuck you!"  
Ian's head was spinning.  
Mandy.  
He needed to see Mandy.  
He strode towards the door, yanked it on it's creaking hinges, and stopped.  
"You know what, Lip?" He hissed, jade eyes narrowed.  
"I was going to explain everything. And maybe I will. If you can take your head out of your ass for one fucking second and stop acting like you know everything!"  
He slammed the door, and made his way into the night.


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning.

"Pick up... pick up, Mandy, c'mon..."  
Ian was sat on a bench in the park, darkness swiftly drawing in around him like an unwanted jacket.  
He knew going to Mandy's house was a bad idea- he couldn't risk running into Terry there.  
There were only so many fights he could get into in one day.  
"C'mon... just pick up the phone..."  
"Ian?"  
At last, a hoarse whisper reached his ears.  
"Mandy? Is that you?"  
"No, it's me- uh, it's Mickey."  
"Oh! Shit. Wait, why do you have Mandy's phone?"  
"Look- just- just meet me under the L, aight?"  
"Ok."

***

Lip paced up and down the bedroom, floorboards creaking gently under his weight.  
Shit.  
What if the baby was his? He didn't think he'd ever be able to look his 'neice' or 'nephew' in the eyes if there was even the slightest chance they were actually his child.  
But what would Ian say?  
Huh. What would Ian say. Like he didn't hate him already.  
Beep!  
His phone buzzed.

We need to talk-  
Mandy.

Shit.

I know.

How do you know?

Your dad came round and beat the shit out of Ian.

Oh fuck! Is he ok?

I think so.

What do you mean "think"?

We're not really talking right now.

Do I even wanna ask why?

No.

Fine. But I'm coming round yours. So you had better fucking make up.

*

"Hey."  
"Hey. Look Mickey, I-"  
"Just shut up and get on me, Gallagher."  
Ian looked around him.  
"What, right now? Like, under the L?"  
As a response, Mickey just turned away from him and started unbuckling his belt, placing his hands on the pillar in front of him.  
Ian swiftly followed suit, slicking his finger with spit and easing it into the dark haired boy's tight, puckered hole.  
"Ungh,"  
He gently added another, scissoring the two too make Mickey's tight walls more pliable.  
"Fuck- just- just do it already!"  
Ian loved it when Mickey got bossy. Not that he would ever say that- unlesd he wanted his head kicked in.  
"Gallagher!"  
"Sorry."  
The red head pulled his pants down further, rolled on a condom, and began inching his long, rock-hard cock inside of Mickey.  
"F-fuck..."  
He bottomed out, took a minute to let the other boy adjust around him, then pulled out amd slammed in, hard.  
And again.  
And again.  
The sound of skin smacking on skin and pleasure filled grunts surrounded them, cocooning them in a world apart from their normal lives.  
Ian reached his hand around Mickey's front and stroked his throbbing dick, still pounding him relentlessly, until he came all over his hand. The younger boy released soon after, and then pulled out.

Mickey lit a cigarette, and sat on the dirt beneath them, indicating with his hand for Ian to do the same.  
"Look, man, I'm in some shit,"  
"Thought that was my job."  
He snorted and rolled his eyes.  
"Nah, like, some serious shit."  
"You going back to juvie or somethin'?"  
"No- fuck- look, just forget I said anything, man."  
Shit, this was hard.  
"You sure?"  
Stupid fucking question.  
"No."  
"Jesus, Mickey, what happened?"  
He took a deep breath and whispered,  
"I'm pregnant."

Oh god oh god oh fuck.  
"Fuck."  
"Yeah." His voice quavered ever so slightly, so most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Ian heard it.  
"Is it- is it, uh, mine?"  
Mickey snorted half heartedly.  
"You see any other guys like you who can keep their mouth shut in this neighbourhood? 'Course it's fuckin' yours."  
The redhead knew it was stupid, but hearing him say that made something swell in his chest.  
But Mickey was still right. They were in deep shit.  
"Are you... keeping it?"  
"No. Look- I gotta go..."  
He rose to his feet.  
"Oh...right."  
The dark haired boy began to walk away, assuming his usual defensive saunter, then stopped.  
"Mandy... you didn't... knock her up, right?"  
Ian snorted.  
"Not exactly my type. Pretty sure it was Lip, though, if you wanna beat someone up."  
As Mickey left, Ian could have sworn he heard him mutter "Asshole..." under his breath.


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely reader who requested some Lip and Mandy interaction, your wish is my command.

Lip sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer and waiting. He'd been sat there ever sinve his text conversation with Mandy, and his half-finished beer was lukewarm.  
WHAM.  
Mandy flew through the kitchen door in a flurry of short skirts and heavy eye makeup, a cold glare in her narrowed eyes.  
"No Ian?"  
He raised his gaze from his beer, and shook his head.  
"Nah. I haven't seen him since he went out earlier. After we... fought."  
"For fucks sake..." she muttered under her breath, pulling out a cheap wooden chair from the table and ploping herself onto it.  
"So...?" Lip began.  
"So what?"  
"Are you... you know... keeping it?"  
She glared at him.  
"Hopefully not. You got four hundred dollars tucked away in your pants?"  
He sighed.  
"Fuck no."  
"Shame, because I have no fucking idea how I'm going to pay for it."  
She put her head in her hands and rubbed her face, smudging her makeup slightly.  
"Fuck. I'm in so much shit."

For a while they just sat there, in silence, until Lip finally spoke,  
"Mandy... is it mine... or... or Ian's?"  
Their eyes met across the table, boring into each other's minds, each trying to know what the other was thinking, both terrified of the answer.  
Bang!  
The door flew open again, this time revealing Ian, hair still slightly tousled from his encounter with Mickey.  
"Mandy? Has this asshole been telling you what he thinks?"  
"Oh, so I'm the asshole now? I'm not the one who found out he knocked up his girlfriend and then just fucked off-"  
"Both of you- shut up!"  
They stopped, and turned to look at her. Lip had stood up during the argument, and had been brandishing his beer bottle at Ian. "You two are going to sit down, and sort this the fuck out."  
She stalked towards the door.  
"Where are you going?"  
She whipped around to face him.  
"Believe it or not, Lip, I got better shit to do than babysit you two."  
Mandy slammed the door behind her.  
The brothers sat in stony silence, before Lip cleared his throat.  
"I-I'm sorry. For what I said earlier, it was really messed up of me."  
"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you an asshole-"  
"Even though I was." Lip interrupted.  
Ian smiled.  
"Yeah. So, like I said, sorry."  
An unspoken truce formed between them, and they both sat at the table.  
"Look, Ian-"  
"Uh huh?"  
"I- I gotta tell you something. I-I-"  
He searched for the words.  
Ian looked up expectantly.  
"I've been fucking Mandy. For a couple months, and... shit, shit! I don't know what I'm saying, I'm so fucking sorry, but I-"  
Ian started chuckling under his breath.  
"Why are you laughing?"  
"Two months, one week, four days and-" he glanced at the clock on the wall with the smashed glass, "about six hours."  
"What?"  
Lip looked totally flumoxed.  
"That's how long I've known for."  
"What?! You knew?!"  
Ian was properly guffawing now.  
His brother just looked outraged and confused.  
"Of course I knew! Mandy's my best friend- I was just going to see how long it took you to say it."  
"And you- you don't care?"  
"Lip..." He sighed. "Mandy... isn't really my girlfriend..."  
"Then why the fuck did you say she was?!"  
"Because... because..."  
"Ian?"  
Ian suddenly felt very small, like he was six years old again, and admitting to Fiona that he was the one who put the baseball through next door's window.  
"I-I'm... gay," he rasped.  
"Oh."  
That's it? Just 'oh'? Was he mad? Did he hate him- oh God, what if he was a homophobe?! Ian could see the headlines now;  
Teenage Boy Bludgeoned To Death With Beer Bottle By Own Brother  
Fiona would never get the blood stains out.  
But he couldn't hate him that much, could he?  
"Are you sure?"  
Seriously.  
"Are you sure you're straight?"  
"Good point. So the baby- is definitely mine then?"  
"Yeah. Sorry, man."  
"So... are you fucking anyone?"  
Ian stood up and started towards the stairs.  
"I'm going to bed."  
"You have to tell me sometime!"  
"Nope!"


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kash is a dick.  
> Just putting that out there.

Brash sunlight glared in through the ripped curtains in Mickey's bedroom, smacking him in the face as he was roughly shaken awake.  
"Get up, ya lazy shit," it was his brother, Iggy. "Dad says we gotta go on a run."  
Iggy was two years older than him, but about minus five years smarter. He had curly blonde hair, and the same shade of windy sky blue eyes as Mickey.  
"The fuck for?" He asked groggily.  
"Some fag didn't pay up in time. Ya know how Dad is about that shit." The older boy balanced a cigarette between his lips, and pulled out a lighter, letting the flames lick the tip before blowing a reel of smoke from the side of his mouth.  
"Get the fuck up."  
He Left.  
Fucking finally.  
Mickey put his hand down the frayed blue boxers he always wore to bed, and lightly stroked his cock as he recalled the dream he'd just had.  
Man, it had been good.  
'Man' being the operative word in the sentence.  
Shit, fuck, what was he doing?! Thinking about some queet sex dream like a goddamn fag- with his Dad probably in the next room.  
But the part where Gallagher had put his-  
NO.  
Stop.  
He had to get up, get dressed, beat the shit out of some fuck head stoner, and definitely not think about what he was going to get firecrotch to do to him later.   
Or their baby.  
No, not 'their baby'.  
The accident.  
Because that's all it was.  
A tiny stupid fucking ball of cells.  
An accident.

                           ***

Ian was behind the counter of the Kash and grab, palms sweating, mentally preparing himself for what he had to do.  
He had to break it off with Kash.  
He just didn't feel right, banging Kash while Mickey was pregnant with his child.  
Fuck. His child.  
Even though Mickey was going to abort it, and they weren't exactly dating, he still felt wrong. And he hated lying to Linda.  
He was going to do it.  
"Hey, Kash?"  
The older man looked up from the shelves he was stocking.  
"Yeah?"  
"I need to talk to you."  
"Ok."  
He walked towards Ian, concern creasing his forehead.  
"We- I- can't do this anymore."  
There was a very pregnant pause.  
"What?"  
"Look, Kash, I'm really sorry, but..." he sighed. "I can't see you anymore.  
Kash's expression darkened.  
"Oh, I think you can, Ian. Unless you want to loose your job, that is."  
"What? Are you threatening me?"  
"No." He stepped closer. "Just giving you a choice. So pick."  
"Kash, you know I can't afford to leave this job-"  
"Exactly."  
"it's just I... I..." he looked wildly around for inspiration, "I have chlamydia!"  
Ian's conscience face-palmed.  
"What."  
"I got it from the shots at school- you know, against malaria and all that shit. The needle hadn't been properly cleaned so..."  
"Oh. So you just didn't want to infect me?"  
Ian heaved a sigh if relief.  
"Exactly."  
Kash was smiling.  
"Huh. That's- that's actually kinda sweet. Now get back to work, or Linda's gonna have both our asses."  
Well that worked.  
Sort of.

***

He was punching, kicking, bleeding, braking, bruising, but didn't feel any of it. He couldn't even see the man laying in front of him, a bloody, broken pulp, curled in a foetal ball of misguided self-protection.  
His brain was screeching, but he couldn't tell what it was saying, he just focused on his hands, his feet, his destruction mission.  
Fuck.  
Stop.  
He crouced down next to the quaking wreck on the floor, and growled,  
"You'd better fuckin' pay up by the end of the week. Or imma do shit that's alot worse than this to your entire fucking family. You hear me?"  
He nodded, terrified.  
"Yeah, you'd better."  
Mickey rose to his feet.  
"C'mon Iggy."  
They started to walk away, then Mickey stopped.   
He ran over to a nearby trash can, and vomited up his breakfast all over the inside.  
Iggy looked disgusted.  
"That's fuckin' gross, man."  
Oh shit.  
It had begun.


	6. Chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated. Sorry for the wait.

Lip trudged to school the next morning, his brain chasing fundraising ideas for Mandy, each more elaborate and far-fetched than the last.  
"Hey handsome,"  
Shit.  
He turned to face her.  
"Hey, Karen," he forced, faking a grin.  
"Haven't seen you in a while," she traced the side of his arm with her slender fingers, "was beginning to think you'd forgotten me. Are you free tonight?"  
No. I'll be fundraising for an abortion for the girl I've been cheating on you with because she's pregnant with my child, and a much better lay than you anyway.  
"Uh, sure. Your place?"  
Ah, fuck it. Mandy'd have to wait. He needed to get laid, like, now.  
Karen flipped her peroxide blonde hair over a shoulder, and hitched up her already close-to-non-existent mini skirt.  
"Make sure to bring condoms. My dad found mine and flipped his shit. You know how he is with that stuff."  
Oh, he knew, alright. Karen's dad still hated him for 'corrupting' his daughter's definitely (not) virgin mouth with his 'ungodly' dick.  
Though in hindsight, under the kitchen table was probably not the best place for it.  
"Yeah, sure, I can bring them."  
"Cool. Oh, you heard about Mandy, right? She's pregnant! She is such a slut."  
Pot. Kettle.  
"Hey, that's not fair!"  
"Oh, right. I forgot she was carrying your neice or nephew to be. Though it's probably not even Ian's."  
Karen giggled like a chipmonk on steroids. Lip knew she wouldn't be laughing so hard if she knew just how right she was.  
"See you later!"  
And, finally, she left.

                           ***

Oh God...  
Mickey was knelt in front of the toilet bowl, wretching up bile from a stomach too empty to properly vomit.  
Then, just as suddenly as it came, it stopped.  
He got unsteadily to his feet, leaning his hand against the wall for support.  
"Hey assface, you seen-"  
"Fuck off Mandy!"  
He tried to slam the door in her face, but she wedged her foot in the way.  
"Have you just been sick?"  
"Fuck. Off."  
"It smells like puke in here, Mickey,"  
"I said; fuck. Off."  
"Whatever. Just try not to hit the booze so hard again, not all of us wanna smell your barf before we go to school."  
"I said FUCK OFF!"  
Mickey forcibly pushed her out of the way, and slammed the already cracked door in her face.  
Fuck.  
He sank to the floor with his head in his hands, and felt tears prick at his eyes.  
No.  
Stop it.  
Only pussies cry.  
And Milkoviches were NOT pussies.  
He grabbed the laptop from the floor where one of his brothers must have left it.  
Sure enough, the second he opened it, he found Google already open on 'hot-babz-4-u.com'.  
Mickey brought up a new tab- making sure to leave the other one open, incase his dad came in- and typed 'male pregnancy' into the search bar.  
All of the websites recommended he consult his doctor (discounting the ones that recommended Jesus).  
Fuck.  
He had to do this.  
If anyone saw him there, he'd- he'd... say he had chlamydia.  
No one lies about that shit, right?

                          ***

"Slut,"  
"Skank,"  
"Whore,"  
Mandy ignored the whispers and kept walking to school.  
"Mandy!"  
She whipped her head around, ready for more abuse, but it was just  
"Ian!"  
He caught up with her.  
"Did you and Lip talk?"  
"Yeah. I told him I was... you know. He was cool with it, thank God."  
"Thank fuck! I thought you were never gonna tell anyone- well, except Kash and your 'mystery man'."  
The redhead looked slightly wistful.  
"Yeah..."  
"Ian? What's up? Did he dump you?!"  
"No... its..."  
His voice petered out.  
"Hey, come over later and tell me then. Besides, we need to try and raise some money."  
"Ah, shit. I can't, Mandy. I promised Linda I'd work late."  
"You mean you're ditching to get laid. Typical teenage boy. See you tomorrow, then."  
She walked off, and Ian was left wondering how the hell he had gotten into this mess in the first place.


	7. Chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning- graphic description of a miscarriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably add that I did my research on miscarriages by watching Call The Midwife, so I apologise if it's inaccurate.

Mandy was laying on her bed, flicking through some trashy magazine when it happened.  
"Fuck!"  
A sharp cramp gripped her stomach. She'd been feeling kind of weird all day, but hadn't felt pain before now.  
"Ah!"  
It felt strange, less painful now, almost like a period cramp.  
But she couldn't be on her period...  
"Fuck... Mickey!"  
No reply.  
"Mickey?!"  
Where was that asshole when you needed him?

***

'That asshole' was currently slumped in the doctor's waiting room, his grungy hoodie pulled low over his eyes, and practically growling at anyone who dared risk a glance at him.  
This was a stupid idea.  
But he had to do it.  
Fuck, how much did a male abortion even cost? He'd have to do some serious 'fund raising'.  
What the fuck was that guy looking at?  
Yeah, you'd better walk away, dick face.  
A young nurse wearing a perfectly ironed blue uniform and an immaculate bun clicked through the doorway in her shiny black kitten heels.  
She looked Mickey up and down disapprovingly, taking in his crumpled grey hoodie and creased baggy jeans, before calling,  
"Mr Milkovich?"  
Mickey reluctantly rose to his feet and sauntered over to her, trying desperately to keep a low profile.  
"Dr Smart will see you now. Third door to the left."  
She fixed him a very forced smile.  
"Have a nice day."  
Mickey just glared as he shrugged past her to the doctor's room.  
Dr fucking Smart.  
What a joke.  
He reached the doorway, took a deep breath, and went through.

                          ***

Ding dong!  
"Mom, that'll be Lip- can you get the door?"  
"Mom!"  
"Sure sweetie, just be a minute! I'm baking muffins, isn't that fun?"  
"Whatever mom."  
Sheila withdrew the tray of muffins from the oven, removed her floral oven gloves and made for the door.  
"Well hello Lip!"  
"Hey, Mrs Jackson,"  
She thrust a plastic bag through the doorway.  
"If you don't mind..."  
"Uh, sure."  
Lip took the bag and put his shoes in it.  
"Thank you. Come in, come in!" She ushered him through the doorway, "I made muffins! Would you like one?"  
"Nah, I'm good thanks, Mrs Jackson."  
"Ok, well, Karen's upstairs, you kids have fun! And just shout if you need anything!"

                          ***

Shit shit shit fuck no oh God no...  
There was blood everywhere.  
It was seeping into the bed, blossoming scarlet blotches stark against the cheap white linen.  
It clung to her skirt, heavy and stinking like a handful of loose change.  
And the pain was just getting worse.  
Until it stopped.  
Mandy curled up in a ball, and sobbed.

                            ***

"So, Mickey is it?"  
Dr Smart was an intellectual-looking man of about forty. He had a thick thatch of chestnut hair, and a smile too bright to be real.  
"It says on the sheet."  
"Yes, I see that. Now, just take a seat," he gestured to the chair opposing the desk he was sat behind, "so, what seems to be the problem?"  
Mickey sat.  
"It's kind of... personal."  
"Well these things often are," he gave an attempt at sympathy.  
And failed.  
Typical- he'd gotten the shit doctor.  
"You- you won't tell my dad, will you?"  
"No. We are very stricy on patient confidentiality, and as you are sixteen, I see no reason to tell your father."  
Mickey heaved a deep breath.  
"I'm pregnant."  
The doctor's eyes flew wide.  
"How far along?"  
"I- shit, I don't know." He buried his face in his hands.  
"Well... when was the last time you were, if you'll pardon the phrase, on the receiving end of sexual inter course?"  
"Uh, like, a couple days ago?"  
"I see. And had you been having regular-"  
"I said I don't fucking know how far along!"  
"I see. Well then, we'd better get you an ultrasound," he stood up.  
"Follow me."


	8. Chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my 2am ramblings that are sooooo late. Sorry.

The gel was slick and cold, which was fucking gross. Kinda like he was being rubbed with a wet fish.  
"Ok, Mickey, let's have a look at your baby, shall we?"  
"That's what we're fuckin' here for. And why is this shit so cold?"  
Doctor Smart gently inhaled through his nostrils, and taped the fakest smile Mickey had ever seen to his face.  
"Ignore the gel, Mickey." He looked intently at the screen just out of his patients vision, and frowned. Then he looked up, took the wierd hand-held thing of off Mickey's stomach, and swiveled his chair around to better talk to him.  
"Well, you are definitely expecting."  
Mickey's heart sank.  
"I'd say around three months-"  
"Three months?! You fuckin' with me?!"  
"No, I am not fucking with you. Would you like to know the sex?"  
Fuck. Three months? That must have been around the first time he and Gallagher... shit.  
"Yeah."  
"You have a little girl."  
Trust Firecrotch to stick a girl inside him.  
"And a little boy."  
Wait. WHAT.  
The younger man just stared in shock at the wall in front of him.  
Twins?! This had to be some kind of joke, right?  
"Oh fuck no, twins?!"  
"Yes, Mickey, twins." the doctor replied tersely   
"No no no. No. No."  
"Yes."  
Fuck. His mind was spinning- twins?!   
Fuck.  
No. It wouldn't change anything. It would be exactly the same getting rid of two as one, right? Right?  
"Wait, does it make a difference?"  
"To what, Mickey?"  
"Gettin' rid of them."  
Dr Smart looked relieved, as though he was glad this asshole wouldn't be raising any of the future generation.  
"As you are in the second trimester, I would advise a surgical abortion, rather than a medicinal one-"  
"There are different kinds? Why, you just gotta kill it."  
"-although" the doctor tried to finish, with gritted teeth, "they can be quite expensive."  
"How much we talkin'?"  
"About eight hundred dollars."

***

Ian was just minding his own business, closing up the shop for the night and dully whistling, when two hand began to massage his shoulders.  
What the fuck?  
"Kash, what are you doing?"  
"I'm trying to be, y'know, romantic. Look, I was really thinking about how sweet you were about the whole chlamydia thing, and I think we should do more... coupley things."  
Ian removed his hand and held them firmly in his.  
"Kash,"  
What the fuck was up with this guy?  
"You are married. With kids! And you don't even act 'coupley' with your wife!  
"Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I think we need to maybe- just- chill for a bit."  
The older man dropped his hands with a face like thunder.  
"'Chill'? You think we need to chill?!" He ran his hands through his dark hair, and paced.  
"Do you know how much I've risked for this?! DO YOU? My marriage, my family, my LIFE! For what? So we can 'chill'?"  
Woah.  
"Kash, calm down! You're acting-"  
"Acting what?"  
"Crazy! One minute you're all romantic and th-"  
"Crazy?!"  
Kash's eyes were wild and stained sickly red.  
"I am NOT CRAZY!"  
"Kash- Kash are you on something?"  
"None of your damn business."  
He threw open the door, and stormed off into the street.  
Something was very wrong.

***

What was wrong with him?  
"God, how old are you? Do you need pills or something?"  
"No- I- Jesus... Karen, I swear I can normally get it up fine- more than fine,"  
Why couldn't he get it up?  
What was wrong with him today?  
"Are you not into me or something?"  
"No, I am, I just... I dunno."  
"Think about something that makes you hot. Like really hot."  
Mandy.  
"Uh huh,"  
"Now..." she reached a hand out to his cock, and began stroking it, "keep thinking about that."  
But he was with Karen.  
He couldn't think about Mandy,  
Could he?  
"Much better! Now get inside me."  
Fuck it.  
He was going to have to.


End file.
